When my dad bought the new tractor, we took this family photo with our dog Billy and the Horse.

Our farm was near the town of Franklin, and our family was blessed and very loving, respected, and well-regarded throughout the community. 

My parents and I and my brother and sisters attended church weekly and went to school like all other families.

The farm was beautiful and thriving; we had servants, cows, horses, and pigs, and by God's grace, my father could finance a new tractor. Our life was happy and perfect until my older brother John Jr. volunteered to serve in the army, still just 16 years old. My parents were apprehensive, but the war was over, and we were still proud to see him wearing a navy uniform.

The biggest problem was that he was arrested and expelled from the navy, accused of being a pederast - a faggot. When he returned home, he ceased to be a source of pride and became the shame of the whole family.

My mother, horrified and very disappointed, never wanted to see him again or for him to come home. I don't know what deal my dad made with John, but he went on to sleep in the barn and work on the farm as one of our servants.

He was expelled from the navy for being a fag so that he couldn't be accepted in any school or job; working on our farm was his only alternative. Everything seemed to be going well for a few months until an employee reported to my father that John gave himself to the other employees like a bitch.

The shameful sinful scandal was known through the whole region, all the neighbors and acquaintances of the city.

The county sheriff, our community pastor, and my parents gathered at our house that night to discuss what to do with John Junior. The crime of homosexuality could put my older brother in jail for decades.

I was the one who, when I was serving everyone lemonade, made the suggestion.

"What this terrible and disgusting being did is not from God; this animal is neither from God nor our family; it's just a demonic animal. We could keep him here on the farm but as one of the animals. An animal of the farm."

After the astonishment and general estrangement were over, my mother started defending this proposal. At the end of the meeting, the pastor himself said, "God's creatures must be submitted to his designs!"

My father, the sheriff, and one of the servants grabbed my brother, ripped his clothes off, and chained him up.

Over the years, everyone got used to the situation.

The name "John Jr." was heard again; he was renamed Horse. 

He came to live in stirrups and harness, chained like one of our horses. He worked the farm like a beast of burden, pulling plows, and carts, loading and unloading bales and sacks from trucks. 

The county judge did all the paperwork for John Jr to be reported missing in war so he would lose all inheritance rights and no longer be human.

With the slut fag in its place, I became the only son.

I was also the only family member who had daily contact with him, as I helped with the farm work, and I enjoyed seeing him working like a beast of burden.

I whipped him, encouraged other employees, humiliated him, and beat him with meanness and sadism.

One day my father showed me laughing that he had managed to register the Horse as part of the property as one of the farm animals.

"My son, one day you will inherit this horse too."

We were very connected when we were kids; I already knew about his fag nature, and he liked to be my horse when we played.

He liked to be my and my friends' slave in several games. I made our dream come true when I put him as the farm animal.

When I had more autonomy, I encouraged some employees to fuck my horse daily, making him the farm's mare. 

I knew how to keep my brother happy.